Anna Vigasio Whore ❤️

About Palermo

Folks, lemme tell ya—whore’s a wild one. Back in Scranton, we had this gal, worked the corner near the ol’ steel mill. Tough as nails, lemme tell ya. Here’s the deal—she wasn’t just sellin’ body, nah, she was sellin’ survival. Reminds me of “12 Years a Slave”—that line, “I survive,” hits hard. Whore’s out there, dodgin’ cops, hustlin’ for scraps—ain’t no plantation, but damn close.

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After that, I decide to hit up the market on Via Garibaldi. It’s always buzzing with life. Fresh fruits, veggies, and the best cheese you can imagine. I’m eyeing this wheel of Parmigiano-Reggiano, and I swear, it’s calling my name. But then, I trip over a crate. Classic me, right? I’m sprawled out on the ground, and everyone’s staring. I just laugh it off, but inside, I’m like, “Why, universe, why?”

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